


Tarantism

by babykid528



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [23]
Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Dancing, Guitars, Light Angst, M/M, Melancholy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6118036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babykid528/pseuds/babykid528
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Chris shifts in his seat, grunting out a restless puff of air as he rereads the same line of his book for the seventh time. It’s a good book, one he’s wanted to finish reading for weeks, one that he could have finished reading hours ago, if only he could focus. His heart’s just not in it. It’s not in anything these days. At least, that’s how it seems.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tarantism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jenlynn820](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenlynn820/gifts).



> Prompt from Jen: _Tarantism: The urge to overcome melancholy by dancing_

Chris shifts in his seat, grunting out a restless puff of air as he rereads the same line of his book for the seventh time. It’s a good book, one he’s wanted to finish reading for weeks, one that he could have finished reading hours ago, if only he could focus. His heart’s just not in it. It’s not in _anything_  these days. At least, that’s how it seems.

He blinks away the scowl he knows he must be sporting at that thought and turns his attention to the man across the room.

Oscar is sitting on the floor, legs crossed, bare feet wiggling as he strums some chords along with the Pandora station he’s listening to softly. It’s a comforting sight, or it would be on any other day. All it does is make Chris shift again now, corners of his mouth twitching down in a frown, as he zones out listening.

After a moment, Chris sighs, but Oscar doesn’t pay him any attention. He’s always been more than willing to wait Chris out, give him the chance to come to some kind of conclusion, or a complete lack of one, about the goings on in his head before asking to be debriefed on the situation. Chris has always appreciated that about him, more than he’s ever said aloud. 

Now, though, he’s already been alone with his thoughts for too long, and he’s made absolutely zero sense of them. He can’t pinpoint the source of the strange melancholy that’s settled in and begun to build roots in his gut. He wants to attribute it to the idea that soon he’ll be leaving London for another movie, leaving Oscar behind, no longer spending all this time together. He’s not entirely sure that’s all it is though, and he’s not yet ready to get help in working it out.

With another sigh, he tosses his book aside, not bothering to even save his place. He stretches a little, then, and closes his eyes. That instant plunge into darkness seems to do the trick, snapping something in place inside of Chris, making him hyper focused on the sounds across the room, as Oscar hums and strums along with whatever folk song is playing. He allows himself to sway a little, in his seat, rubbing his hands along the upholstery before moving them in circles across the thighs of his jeans.

He doesn’t get up, doesn’t make any move to open his eyes, even. He just continues to sway as Oscar’s playing gets louder and his humming drops off. Chris can imagine the way he must be watching him now, can imagine the slack of Oscar’s jaw as he takes in the no doubt ridiculous, yet _wanton_ way Chris is grinding himself in his seat, legs splayed wide, hands blazing trails across his clothed body in increasingly erratic patterns. Chris can feel himself getting hard just picturing Oscar’s reactions right now.

With each roll of his hips, each twitch of his dick, each strangled half-moan, each fumbled chord, Chris feels the melancholic tide inside ebb a little. Whatever this is, whatever is causing this _feeling_ , isn’t going away any time soon. He’ll go back to sorting his head out later, though. Now, as long as Oscar will continue to indulge him, he just wants to dance.


End file.
